


Little Soldier Boy

by Writerleft



Series: Comes Marching Home [60]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Consequences, F/F, Fallout, Family, Original Characters - Freeform, Politics, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:00:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerleft/pseuds/Writerleft
Summary: The Sato family is taking a much-needed vacation from Republic City, giving Asami a break and Mian a chance to see the world. But with trouble brewing in the Fire Nation, how long until the Avatar gets pulled into it? And how will her and Asami's daughter deal with her first crisis?





	1. Children Are Our Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarity: the year is 186. Korra is 33, Asami is 34, and it's weird writing them my own age. 
> 
> Bopal have four kids: San (boy, 9), Chikara (girl, 8), Kyoshi (aka Kiki, girl, 4), and Jade (girl, 2)
> 
> Mian is 8. 
> 
> Other couples also have kids, but I won't burden you with that information just yet ;)

“Asami,” Opal said, savoring a drink from the cup in her hand. “Of all the inventions you've ever made, this truly is the most brilliant.”

Asami chuckled, sipping her own as she enjoyed the breeze beneath her skirt. It was a hot day, and the metal city of Zaofu didn't exactly dissipate the heat well. “It's just tea with ice in it, Opal. And it was Korra's idea.”

“Well, tell her to patent it,” Opal suggested, tilting her cup around to settle the ice.

They looked out over the wide park, where Korra, Bolin, and Naga were playing with Mian and three of Bolin and Opal's four kids. Their youngest, Jade, was napping inside. Little Kyoshi—or Kiki, as her dad called her—wasn't quite able to keep up with her brothers, but Mian did her best to help her keep up.

Asami smiled at all the kids having fun—and she included her and Opal's spouses in that group—but was happy to have a few days to relax. Or try to—but how could she, knowing how big the mountain of paperwork had already been on her desk when she'd left? “Honestly, it feels like Korra gets more chances to invent things these days than I do.”

Opal quirked an eyebrow at her. “You okay, girl? Sound a little glum.”

Asami shrugged. “I mean, I'm not sure I have any right to be. All three of us are healthy and happy, my business is finally doing so well that people have gotten it through their heads I'm not just coasting on my father's successes, and the city has managed to go a decade without needing me to rebuild it.”

Opal snorted. “What's the problem then?”

Laughter bubbled up from below, where Korra had Kyoshi in her lap, air-scootering circles around Bolin and his other two kids. Mian had climbed on top of Naga, and was chasing after.

“Asami?”

She sighed. “I dunno. It just feels... so... rote, anymore.”

“Sounds like you need to shake things up a bit,” Opal said, her voice husky.

“ _That_ hasn't gotten boring at all,” she said tartly. Opal snickered. “I swear, if Korra and I could conceive naturally, we'd have more kids than you two.”

“Do you want more kids?”

Asami paused. Mian always loved visiting Opal and Bolin's family, and she made friends easily at school—at least, as easily as anyone could when their classmates were overawed by her hero parents. “Mian is such a little sweetheart... I'm so busy all the time, and we never know when Korra might be needed somewhere.” Asami remembered the long hallways, the tall, empty staircases, the dozens and dozens of furnished, empty rooms. How forbidding it all was, as her father withdrew into himself. “We agreed when we adopted Mian, we'd give her all the love and support in the world.” Desperate attempts to make friends, growing up. Have somebody she could relate to, somebody her own age. Anyone. “What if we adopted another child, and it took away from Mian? That wouldn't be fair.”

Opal set down her drink and crossed her arms. “Do you think we love Chikara any less than San? Is Kyoshi any worse off, with Jade around now too?”

Asami winced. “Opal, I didn't mean—”

She waved her off. “I know what you meant. You're being an engineer again, Asami.”

If only. How long since she'd drafted a new design? “How do you mean?”

“I mean... you're acting like love is a finite resource. Like you only produce a certain amount of it, and that can't be changed. When San was first born, obviously he was the most perfect and beautiful child the world had ever seen.”

“Obviously,” Asami smiled.

“And babies are tough, really... really tough. So very... very...” she coughed. “So when I was pregnant like right away again, part of us kinda dreaded it. But then, Chikara came, and we loved him too, and when the boys were old enough to play with each other, it's like our love just kept... increasing. There was ample room in our hearts for the both of them.”

Asami nodded, distantly. “So... while our apartment might be too small for four people as it is, we could always move to a bigger one?”

“If that's the analogy that works for you, sure,” Opal said, but her lip turned down. “Doesn't feel complete, though. No, the family thing, it's... one of those, the whole is greater than the sum things?”

“Hmm...” Asami tapped a curled elbow against her chin, pondering. “So adding more kids created a sort of... constructive feedback loop, in the amount of love you and Bolin had to offer?”

Opal blinked at her, then laughed. “Spirits, Asami, you're a dork. Sure, why not?”

“Opal!” Korra greeted, airbending herself beside them, her skin coated in a sheen of sweat that made Asami's heart beat just that much faster. “I have no idea how you keep up with that army of yours.”

“That's because you're not thinking strategically,” Opal said, tapping her forehead. “The trick is, you let them tire each _other_ out, while you sit and drink iced tea.”

“Oh, do you have that here?”

“Yeah, of course,” Opal said, waving the question away. “We've had it for years!”

Asami snorted, looking out at the field. Mian was running with—outrunning, as it happened—the other children, while Bolin was leaning down, hands on his knees as he breathed. Mian's own breathing looked fine—her lung problem wasn't curable, but weekly healing kept her as energetic and capable as any other eight year old. More, even.

Korra took a chair, scooting it close to Asami's so she could hold her hand. The thin lines on Korra's face presaged the smile that broke out across it, once she looked in Asami's eyes. “Enjoying your time off, Sparks?”

“Of course I am. Getting to spend more time with my girls is always worth it—and it is nice to get out of town for a few days.”

“Right?” Korra smiled, patting their clasped hands.

She set down her drink, giving her wife an even look. “What did you do, Korra?”

“I... may have asked Tenni how long she thought Future Industries could run without you being in the office.”

“Korra!” Asami scolded, eyebrows furrowed. “I know you were looking forward to this, but you can't just interfere—”

“She said seven months. Apparently it's company policy to have plans in place for temporarily assigning duties for every department head and executive for at least the length given for parental leave.”

“Parental... I'm fairly certain we're not going to get pregnant, Korra.” Opal started snickering, and Asami's glare did nothing to stop it. “And that sort of leave is there to make sure my best people don't have to choose between their lives and their career.”

“That's exactly what Tenni said!” Korra leaned over the armrests, clutching Asami's hand in both of hers. “I didn't bring it up before we left town, but now that we're out and about... are you really _happy_ at work Asami? Don't tell me how much they need you or how you just want to see such and such a project done, in fact don't answer me at all, but just _think_ about it, okay?”

Asami pressed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “How long am I supposed to just think about it?”

“Fffffffour weeks?”

“Four weeks!”

Korra locked eyes with her, pouting her lower lip out. “Pleeeease?”

Asami sputtered, not ready for that assault. “Korra, I haven't taken that much time off in... in... I don't know how long!”

“You kinda just proved her point, there,” Opal said, kicking her legs. “Look, can I make an observation?”

“Please!” Korra said, a little too quickly, while Asami merely sighed.

Opal leaned against the table. “Asami... you've done a fantastic job at Future Industries. Nobody is going to dispute that. But the way you took it over to begin with, just sorta... by default, because of everything your father did... you didn't have any say in that. Maybe you didn't realize it at the time, maybe it just felt natural, but did you ever ask yourself if you _wanted_ to be running a multinational corporation?”

“I... I mean it was my father's company. I had to restore the family's reputation...”

“Did you?” Opal asked. “Your father didn't deserve it, and nobody blamed _you_ for what happened.”

“I remember being a little surprised at the time,” Korra said. “After everything that happened, I figured you'd take what money you had and just... run away from everything.”

“I couldn't do that,” Asami said firmly.

“Of course not,” Opal smiled. “But look at my aunt. She did the whole police thing to make her mom happy, because she thought she was supposed to, and she was miserable for years. Or Tenzin—how long did it take him to realize he could be his own person, and not just Aang Jr.?”

“Are you saying I'm still in my father's shadow?”

“I'm saying you've lived your life around an emotionally-driven choice from when you were a teenager. Maybe, just maybe, that's a little young to permanently determine your career path?”

“I... Korra, what do you think of this?”

Her wife shrugged, resting her head on Asami's shoulder. “Don't ask me. I've known my career path since I was five. But... I do know that you don't come home from the office happy, very often. Or even on time. I know how many nights you barely make it through dinner before conking out.”

Asami winced. Her fatigue wasn't merely a work-related thing—she'd tired more easily than she liked ever since they'd sealed away Vaatu. It was something they dealt with, just like Korra's trauma—and just like that, not something they normally talked about in public.

Korra sensed her misstep, and was already backpedaling. “What I mean is... I love you, and Mian loves you, and we know your work is important to you but it feels like work gets more of Asami than we do sometimes.”

“I never let work intrude on weekends,” Asami defended, frowned. “Barring emergencies.”

“So your family gets two days a week?” Opal asked, ice clicking against her cup as she sipped her tea.

Asami took a deep breath. “We'll talk about this later. And I'll _think_ about the four weeks when I'm in a better mood—okay?”

Korra recognized a good deal when she saw it. She leaned over, kissing Asami's cheek. “Okay.”

She already felt herself melting, and not from Zaofu's heat. “Hypothetically, though... what would you want to do, in all that time? Anywhere in particular you'd like to visit?”

 

 

-

 

 

General Toshiro surveyed his desk, papers neatly arrayed, electric lamp buzzing on the corner. Battle plans, war games, contingencies... useless. What was the point of the Fire Nation maintaining a military, if the royal family was intent on giving everything away? Once, the Fire Nation had been the dragon that enveloped the world... what had it fallen to, now?

He filed the plans away, again unchanged. Why would they need plans to defend Capital City, if the other nations could take what they wanted anyway?

Toshiro was halfway toward pulling the Fire Whiskey out of his drawer when his aide-de-camp came into the doorway and stood at attention. She was more a secretary than a soldier. Not that the Fire Nation had many true soldiers left to speak of. “Sir, urgent news from the capital. Also, a woman is here to see you, citing Lieutenant Shu as reference.”

Toshiro sighed, shutting the drawer. “What's the news?”

“Fire Lord Izumi has announced her abdication, effective in three weeks.”

The bottom fell out of Toshiro's gut. Scuttlebutt had been predicting this for weeks, but to finally hear it... “Iroh?”

“Is to be the new Fire Lord.”

He slumped back in his chair. That simpering, internationalist would-be general, on the throne? Izumi as at least a capable administrator, and loyal to her nation, even if she carried guilt for crimes so long ago as to have passed out of memory. Iroh, though, had spent more time abroad than home. He was more a product of Republic City than of the Fire Nation.

“They're going to make a colony out of us,” he lamented to his desk.

“Pardon, sir?”

“Nothing,” he said, absently. “Who was the woman?”

“I'll send her in.”

Toshiro sighed, his mind again wandering to the back of that drawer. How could he still serve, when his nation refused to serve itself? He turned, regarding the red flag, the flame of the Fire Nation, once the most powerful and advanced nation on Earth. Now...

An afterthought.

“General,” came a voice from the door. He looked to the woman entering his office, her attire high-class, but well-worn and a few years out of fashion. A boy in a cloak came behind her, his face mostly obscured by the hood. “I assume you heard the news?”

The general stroked his short beard, placing an elbow on his desk as he assessed her. Her flowing pants and the way she walked suggested firebender, but she wasn't in the military... “Who are you? And how have you already heard it?”

She smirked. “You can call me Meisa, and I have my sources. Sources that tell me you are not particularly thrilled about the idea of a Fire Lord Iroh, bringing us deeper into the Avatar's bright and perfect world order.”

He leaned back as she stalked into the room, the child following close behind. “I don't know you. Certainly not enough to discuss unpopular political stances.”

“They're not as unpopular as you think,” she said, looking at his map on the wall. A relic from the Hundred Year War, frowned upon by most of the other generals, but permitted for display due to its personal nature, a family heirloom. “Your grandfather fought at New Ozai?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “The entire occupation, yes. What do you want?”

“Why... in the end, that's what I wanted to ask you. What do _you_ want?”

Toshiro stood. “I'm not terribly impressed with your cryptic song and dance. Speak plainly or I'll show you out.”

“You're cautious,” she said, crossing her arms. “That's fair. So am I. Perhaps you haven't considered your desires, for lack of opportunity to attain them. If you don't know your options, after all, why bother pondering it? But tell me—do you want somebody besides Prince Iroh on the throne?”

Toshiro sighed. “What I want doesn't matter. And even if I did get a say, his sister wouldn't be any better.”

“Who says the next Fire Lord needs to be from that same family?”

He took a step back. She... she was talking about more than politics. She was talking treason.

“The royal bloodline has run it's course,” Meisa said, pulling the child with her to the center of the room, then standing behind him, wrists resting on his shoulders. “Sycophants or lunatics, the lot of them. What the Fire Nation needs is somebody who can restore our former glory. Who remembers what the Fire Nation truly was, who has fire burning in their veins. Not some paper general who's been defeated by rabble. Somebody with experience. Who the other world leaders would respect enough to leave alone...”

“Lieutenant Shu had nothing to do with this meeting, did he?”

“He is... a friend. Someone who, like us, has felt the need to hide his belief that the Fire Nation has long been on the wrong path. But we think the time has come to restore its former glory. For if we do not act now, we'll go the way of the Earth Kingdom before much longer. And we all want to prevent that, don't we?”

Toshiro leaned forward on his desk. “Ma'am, I don't know who you think you are, but if you're trying to talk somebody into a coup, you have to bring more to the table than some pretty words about our glorious past.”

Meisa waved the objection away, then brought her hand down to the boy's hood. “General Toshiro, I'd like you to meet my son.” She pulled the hood back, revealing a hardened gaze for such a youthful face—and a third eye tattoo at the center of his forehead. “General Toshiro, meet Sozin. Sozin... if he'll accept our help, you're looking at the next Fire Lord.”

 

[Fanart courtesy of myartsyfartsycrapiness](https://myartsyfartsycrapiness.tumblr.com/post/174754903032/hi-this-was-done-for-threehoursfromtroy-who-is)


	2. Do What Mom Says

_Fanart courtesy of[sketchyneeks](http://sketchyneeks.tumblr.com/post/174647368951/i-just-read-little-soldier-boy-by)_

  
  
“Oops,” Mian said, fiddling with her camera. She turned the lever which expelled the still-developing picture she'd just taken of the floor. She stuffed it in her pocket, rushing to the airship railing and resetting the camera's works in with a nimbleness Korra was always surprised those tiny fingers could manage.

“Now, Mian,” Asami said, kneeling beside her. “That's the fifth wasted picture this morning.”

“Sorry, Mama,” she replied, and Korra recognized her lack of penance. Something she'd clearly picked up from Korra herself—at least, according to Korra's parents.

“I'm not mad, honey, but we're going to be on this trip for a while, and this is still a prototype. We only brought along so much film, and you don't want to run out of it with pictures of the ground, do you?”

“Maybe she likes them,” Korra offered, glancing down at the two of them without removing her arms from the railing. “Something to remind her where her feet have been.”

Mian and Asami both gave Korra identical flat looks, and she couldn't help but grin. This girl really was the best—and brattiest—of them both. Mian stuck out her tongue, and Asami could only laugh. “You've still got a chance to get a picture of the beach. The Fire Nation has some of the most pristine beaches in the world—ironically, if you want to go swimming, the further from the Water Tribes you get, the better.”

“Just because someone refuses to swim if the water is a little nippy—” Korra argued.

“Freezing, Korra. The water is literally freezing.”

“It's invigorating!”

“No, Korra.”

Mian snapped a picture of the beach, dotted with swimmers enjoying the sand and surf. “Can we go to the beach after we land?”

“Once we get a hotel figured out,” Asami said, standing and running her hand through Mian's hair. She made it sound like a minor thing, but finding a hotel that could accommodate Naga wasn't always the easiest task, no matter how much money Asami could throw at the problem. “We're starting down. Put your camera away and get ready.”

“Okay,” Mian said, curling her backpack over her shoulder and trying to make space in the jumble inside.

Korra took one arm off the rail, offering it's place to Asami. Asami accepted the place to stand, and the arm wrapped around her waist, too. “Thanks for agreeing to the four weeks, Sparks.”

Asami tilted her head against Korra's. “I really don't get to spend enough time with you two. Besides... you and Opal were right. I've spent my life doing my dad's job... I really need to take some time and assess, you know?”

Korra nodded. “Well I'm glad you're actually taking it. And I'm looking forward to seeing you in a swimsuit.”

Asami snorted. “That so?”

“Any chance I get.”

The airship shuddered slightly as it touched down, and Korra took the sudden opportunity to swoop over and give Asami a kiss. Asami crinkled her nose at the suddenness of it, shaking her head, but it wasn't as if she didn't kiss back.

“Ugh,” Mian said, her little arms crossed beside them. “You two are _always_ like this.”

“At least you're aware of it,” Asami said. She tilted her head at Korra, and Korra already knew what jab was coming. “Your mommy still doesn't even admit her parents touch each other.”

“Never will,” Korra said, swooping down to scoop their daughter up. She was getting too big for it, far faster than Korra liked. That only made Korra relish every chance she could still take to hold her. “Now let's go see the Fire Nation! Asami, race you to the front of the airship!”

“Not through this crowd,” Asami said, a calming hand on Korra's shoulder. It fell to her elbow as they went back to their cabin and gathered their things. Korra held Mian tight, right up until her hands were needed for suitcases. One for her. One for Mian. Three for Asami. The regular balance.

By the time they'd collected Naga, too, most of the other passengers had disembarked—which was the plan. Naga and crowds didn't mix well. Still, the lack of a crowd made the woman waiting by the bottom of the ramp easier to spot, however nondescript she tried to act. Her face and figure were relatively plain, and though those long braids and darker skin certainly weren't Fire Nation grown, Korra probably would've ignored her if not for the fact she was one of her best friends' wife.

“Tsu Ying!” Korra said, shuffling over and depositing the bags by her feet so she could give her a hug. Tsu Ying wasn't much of a hugger, but she knew better than to try to restrain the Avatar. “What are you doing here!?”

“Great to see you,” Tsu Ying said. “I wish I could say it was a coincidence, or just for pleasure, but Mako sent me to collect you.”

“Sounds serious,” Asami said, setting her own bags down. “He's here too?”

“Yeah, for the coronation.”

“Coro...” Korra blinked. “Wait, what now? Who is being coronated?”

“What's coronated?” Mian asked.

“Not a real word,” Asami teased offhandedly, guiding Naga out of the way.

Tsu Ying chuckled. “Izumi is abdicating. It was just announced yesterday, but we've been here the last few weeks, getting ready for it.”

“But...” Korra asked slowly, “if it was just announced yesterday, how did you know...”

“I don't know if you know this, but...” Tsu Ying looked about conspiratorially, then leaned in. Korra and Asami leaned in too. “...we're spies.”

Asami snorted; she'd been the one who offered Mako and Tsu Ying the job, after all. “Okay, I walked into that,” Korra admitted. “When's this coronation then?”

“Not for a few weeks, but there's a lot to prepare. The biggest collection of world leaders since your wedding? It's a security nightmare.”

“I bet,” Asami said.

Korra bit her lip. She looked at her wife, her daughter, then turned to Tsu Ying. Why did big world events always have to be so... personally inconvenient?! “See, the thing is... we're on a vacation? Do you _know_ how hard it was to pry Asami away from the office?”

“Relax,” Tsu Ying laughed, holding her hands up to defend herself. “Mako and I just wanna talk to you, and at worst, get you to show your face for the ceremony itself? Iroh already likes you. Something about saving his ass on land _and_ at sea.”

Korra snorted. He'd done more than his share of the fighting in the Equalist uprising, and his army wouldn't have even put a scratch on Kuvira's mecha. “I can imagine the Fire Lord owing me some favors won't hurt.”

“True... but you've still got some ground to cover on getting the general Fire Nation public completely on your side again. You're not completely underwater anymore, but let's just say, Fire Nation sentiment toward the Avatar hasn't been this bad since oh, near the end of the War.”

“That sounds pretty bad,” Asami said. “Is it safe to be here?”

“Do people here not like Mommy?” Mian asked.

“We'll explain it later,” Korra and Asami both answered at once. Asami squeezed her shoulder, while Korra's hand was on the back of her head.

Tsu Ying turned, nodding toward the city. “I have a truck waiting. Big enough for Naga. And I've found a place for you guys that can accommodate her, too.”

“What about the beach?” Mian said, pointing toward it.

Tsu Ying glanced between her moms. “Hey, Mian. Don't you wanna hang out with your cousin, Naoki?”

“I guess,” Mian said, in the tone Korra recognized as 'I know I need to be polite but that doesn't make me happy at all.' Mian hadn't seen Mako and Tsu Ying's daughter in, what, over a year now?

“I can't believe you brought her along,” Asami said.

Tsu Ying shrugged. “Family doesn't go away, just because the world's ending. C'mon, day's wasting.”

 

-

 

“You will have to give a speech,” Hotaru said, her legs kicked off the side of the settee. Iroh's little sister had stubbornly refused to admit she wasn't in her early twenties for... about twenty years now.

“I hate my voice,” Iroh complained. “It sounds even higher pitched over speakers.”

“Maybe,” Hotaru yawned, “if you consult the Fire Sages for some ancient wisdom, they can tell you how to finally go through puberty.”

Iroh gave their mother a helpless look, but Fire Lord Izumi merely sighed without looking up from the report she was reading. “You're not going to act like this after I'm Fire Lord, are you?”

“If I do, do you promise to banish me?”

It _would_ make the palace quite a bit quieter... and he didn't particularly like the influence she had on his kids, either. But alas, it was not a real option. “Just, no jokes about challenging me to an Agni Kai, at least. Promise me that much?”

“Fffffine. I'll have to get you a different coronation present then.”

Iroh rolled his eyes, but Hotaru clapped her hands, sitting straight. “Enough bellyaching!” she snapped. “What are you going to talk about? Love and peace, like Grandfather? Honor and stability, like Mom?”

Their mother's pen scratches suddenly ceased. She looked up, over her glasses, watching him. Waiting.

She wouldn't give him the answer, of course—but she'd critique. “Reinvigoration, and internationalism.”

Hotaru bobbed her head with each syllable. “Right... so you want people to sleep through the first year of your reign? You gotta be punchier than that!”

“People want change. The economy is still sluggish, after all. And there's all these voices blaming the other nations for it—”

“Nobody wants an economics lesson,” Hotaru groaned, leaning against the settee's back. “They want you to get out there, assure them you're in charge, and that you're going to solve every single one of their problems.”

“But... even if that were possible—”

“HUP-up-up!” she interrupted, holding a finger up. “Simple, Brother.”

Iroh sighed, clenching his teeth. “Okay... what about... revival and cooperation?”

Hotaru considered, then shrugged. “Better, but still boring. Why don't—”

A knock came at the chamber door, and Mother set her pen down. “Enter.”

One of the royal stewards opened the door, admitting a stocky man in a general's uniform. Iroh searched his memory... Toshiro, wasn't it? He was supposed to be stationed down in Pa-Lan prefecture.

“You're away from your post, General,” Iroh's mother said. “Without word. Am I to assume this is serious?”

“Very, your highness.” He bowed formally before her desk. “Forgive my impertinence. I would not be away from my post otherwise.”

“Very well, then. Rise, and report.”

Iroh leaned forward, and even Hotaru raised her head.

General Toshiro straightened. “Fire Lord, I've come to warn you. My security team stumbled into an assassination plot against the royal family. That's why I'm here, with the bulk of my troops. For the sake of the Fire Nation, we must safeguard the succession.”

 

-

 

Meisa looked out the narrow attic window, an handkerchief over her mouth against the dust. The window looked straight out toward the Royal Palace, directly at the grounds. It was perfect. “No, no, this won't do at all,” she said. “This window will simply leak heat like a sieve. As cold as nights are... you must have another space available.”

“I assure you, I do not,” the landlord said. “Everyone in the caldera gets squeezed into less and less space. Truly, they should move some of the government business elsewhere, but we are held by tradition, I suppose.”

“Yes, well,” Meisa said. “Tradition does have its merits. Very well, I suppose we will have to take it for now, though if we find another billet elsewhere-”

“I could, ah, I could bring up an electric heater...” he was saying, realizing as he did the attic wasn't wired up. Why would it be?

“And burn us to death in our sleep? I think not. An extra bundle of blankets will have to do.”

“I can arrange that,” he said.

Sozin grunted, hauling her things up the steep stairwell. “Ah, your porter is here with your things.”

“I can see that,” Meisa said, testily. “I presume you have somewhere to house him, as well?”

The landlord blanched—of course he did. She knew full well that he did not, that she would be scandalized, that he would apologize profusely, that in the end, a cot and a partition would be offered, and extra blankets, and a discount, and by the end of it she would have so thoroughly proven herself a pain in his posterior that he would go to great lengths to avoid speaking to her again for as long as possible. In fact, a few more demands, and she would make herself a pariah to the lodging's staff, too.

Paying for privacy only increased scrutiny, after all. Rendering oneself invisible through obnoxiousness, however...

“Careful, boy!” she hissed, pushing past the landlord to harass Sozin. The cloth tied over his forehead absorbed the sweat of his labor, enough to keep anyone from questioning it. “I don't want to see any scratch marks on my valise, do you hear?”

“Yes, mom.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Speak up. I can't hear you when you mumble!”

“Ma'am! Yes, ma'am.”

She glared at him, not lifting a finger, but he cowered as if she had her belt aloft. Finally, she sniffed, and turned back toward the landlord. “Damned fool child. I don’t suppose you know anybody with a servant to spare, do you?”

“Uh… I’ll ask around, ma’am.”

“Yes. See that you do.” She turned, arms crossed, surveying the room with an air of displeasure. A moment later, she peered over her shoulder, eyebrow arched. “That will be all.”

The man beat a fast retreat, and Meisa let out a breath. “Shut the door.”

He shuffled to the hatch, swinging it shut and latching it. “I’m sorry,” Sozin said quietly.

Meisa waved her hand. “Be more careful. We’ve come too far to suffer this foolishness. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Meisa took a deep breath, then reached a hand out. “Come here.”

Sozin shuffled toward her, eyes downcast.

“You are a special, powerful child,” she said, clasping the side of his head. “This is the destiny you’ve been raised for. Only a while longer, and you will restore the Fire Nation to its former glory. You want that, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Good boy, Sozin,” Meisa said, pulling her son against her and looking at the palace through the window. “You’re a good boy.”

 


	3. Seen from the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako and Tsu Ying fill their friends (and bosses) Korra and Asami in on what's been going down I'm the Fire Nation... but there are things even two spymasters didn't know to look for...

_Fanart courtesy of[donutadonis](https://donutadonis.tumblr.com/post/174633060747/korra-gave-her-poutiest-pout-kicking-her-feet)_

 

“Hey, what’s this?” Naoki said. She was a stocky girl, a year younger than Mian but just as tall, and Mian didn’t care at _all_ for the way she was looking through her backpack.

“Hey!” Mian snapped as Naoki pulled the camera out. “Don’t touch it!”

Naoko crossed her arms, pouting. “My parents said you have to check bags for weird stuff. It could’ve been a bomb, or drugs, or other contraband!”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Mian said, snatching the camera away. “Why would I have a bomb, and of course I have my medicine with me!” Mian didn’t know what contraband was, but Naoki didn’t need to know that. “You’re being dumb.”

“I’m _not_ dumb! You’re dumb! Don’t your moms teach you how to be careful? What if bad guys try to get you?”

“My moms will get ‘em?” Obviously? “They tell me to be careful with strangers. But we’re not strangers!”

“You… could be a spirit!”

“Do I _look_ like a spirit?” What were Uncle Mako and Aunt Tsu Ying teaching her?

“No… but I still just wanna be careful! So tell me what that thing is!”

Mian wound the camera. “Let me show you!” She raised it up and snapped a picture.

“Aaah!” Naoki yelped at the flash. “You blinded me!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Daaaaad!” Naoki cried, running out of the room.

Mian sighed, ejecting the picture. Naoki was okay, but she always went crying to her dad whenever she didn’t like something. Mako and Tsu Ying always seemed to be living somewhere else when they visited, in hotels or something, but it was always so _boring_. Naoki never wanted to share her stuff, but always expected Mian to.

Well, for now, Mian was left to her own devices. She had a backpack full of pencils and books and film to entertain herself with, at least until the grown ups all finished with each other. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be staying in the Fire Nation too long, not if it was going to be serious like this. She didn’t get to spend time with both her moms that often, after all, and they’d promised this would be family time!

They were both really important, and they were busy a lot of the time, but they always made time for Mian, too. She knew Korra had a duty to the whole world--she was the Avatar! When Korra was around, that fact made Mian feel so proud and so special.

But when Korra  was on Avatar business, that changed. The way Aunt Tsu Ying had been talking, this could turn into Avatar business soon, and when that happened…

When that happened, all Mian wanted Korra to be was her mom.

 

-

 

“I’m never gonna see agaaaain!” Naoki was crying, arms wrapped around Mako’s waist.

“Honey, I’m sure if you weren’t crying, your vision would be back by now,” Mako said, petting her hair. He gave a worried look at Asami, but she mouthed ‘camera,’ then shared a look with her wife, sitting beside her on the couch.

“I’ll go smooth this over,” Tsu Ying said, peeling their daughter off him. “C’mon, Naoki. If your sight never comes back, we’ll just train you to be like strong like Toph…”

Mako sighed as they left, then looked at Korra and Asami. “What?”

“Nothing,” Korra snickered.

He didn’t believe it for a second. “ _What_?”  

“You’re a cute dad,” Asami said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, crossing his arms. “Did you two want something to drink, or should we just get to business?”

“Tell us what the business is,” Korra said, “and we’ll tell you what we want to drink.”

“Fair enough,” Mako chuckled. “The public story is, Izumi wants to be around to help Iroh, like her dad did with her.”

“Makes sense,” Asami said, recrossing her legs and shifting closer to Korra. “I take it there’s more to it?”

“You could say that,” Mako said, leaning against the wall. “Izumi has been in power for close to twenty years, but the people are restless. They’ve devolved some power to the lower assembly, but democratic reformers are getting more and more power, especially since the economy never improved.” Asami grimaced, and Korra sighed--both blamed themselves, in part, for what happened in Kuodan, which set off the economic collapse eleven years prior. “The hope is, passing power to a younger generation will take some of the steam out of the movements, before it ferments into a full-on revolution.”

“A revolution? How bad have things gotten?”

“I wouldn’t say one was imminent, but then, that’s the sort of thing that seems impossible right up until it happens. Would anybody have expected the Earth Kingdom to collapse so quickly?”

“The Fire Nation has problems,” Asami said, “but nowhere near the rot the Earth Kingdom had. Besides, if Iroh is going to govern the same way as Izumi did, how does this really help?”

“They’ve had some reforms planned for the last year or so that they’ve been sitting on,” Mako said. “Iroh is going to come out of the gates with a whole pile of decrees. They may work, but they’ll cause their own problems. Stepping on the toes of some of the nobility and some… other things.”

“Other things?” Asami asked.

Mako tried to wave her away, but he knew that she’d noticed his deliberate not looking at her. Sometimes, knowing each other so well was a problem. “I feel like telling you could constitute a conflict of interest, Asami.”

“Ah,” she said. “It could impact my business. No, you’re right. I trust your judgment.”

Why was it the people with the most integrity were the ones that were easiest to keep honest? “Thanks.”

“I’ll take that drink, though,” Asami said. “Brandy?”

“You know it,” Mako winked, moving to the hotel room’s kitchenette. “Korra?”

“Sure,” she said. “What do you think about all the reforms, though?”

“Well… I haven’t been able to get my hands on the most recent versions,” he grumbled, pouring four glasses, and carrying two over. “And I don’t imagine they’d fork it over for my analysis. Or be happy I’ve seen what I have, even.”

Korra snorted, taking her and Asami’s brandy from him. “Don’t worry. We won’t tell. The reforms?”

Mako sipped his drink, and shrugged. “Their economists seem to think they’ll work. It makes the right people mad, at least. That seems to be a pretty good metric to measure these things by.”

“I’ll talk to the other White Lotus members,” Asami said, spinning her drink with her wrist. “We may be able to exert pressure to help with the economy. But long-term, some degree of democratization likely needs to happen.”

“Long term, yes . Easing in will let people get used to the concept, and let party structures develop while they can’t do too much damage yet.”

“So, what suggestion do you have for me?” Korra asked. “Am I even invited?”

“That’s tricky,” Tsu Ying said, re-entering the room and taking her brandy gratefully. “You come, it reminds people ‘bout all those factories you smashed. You stay away, it looks like a deliberate sleight. Probably you’re better off showing up and taking any criticism gracefully. Let them blow off some steam at your expense.”

Korra groaned. “Sounds grand.” Asami rested her head on her shoulder. “Can we at last limit how much time I’ve gotta spend there?”

“That’ll depend on when the other world leaders arrive. Probably, you need to keep yourself available for the next four weeks or so.”

Korra gave her poutiest pout, kicking her feet against the floor. “But our vacaaaaaation, Mako! Can’t you pretend you never found us? We can sneak away and get lost for a month, no problem!”

Tsu Ying raised her glass to her. “I mourn your loss.”

Korra groaned, then downed the rest of her glass. Asami patted her leg.

“At least it’s all people you already know,” Asami said. “The timing is unfortunate, but I’m sure we can find something to do around Capital City. As far as regime changes go, sounds like it should be pretty smooth.”

Mako choked on her drink, while Tsu Ying groaned. “Woman…” Tsu Ying groaned, “Why would you say something like that?”

Asami and Korra looked at each other. “Why are spies so superstitious?” Asami asked.

“Hey,” Tsu Ying said, “anything that goes wrong now is on you, just know that.”

Asami gave Mako a helpless look. “Really?”

“If you haven’t learned not to tempt irony, don’t look to me for help,” he said, and returned to his drink.

 

-

 

“People of the Fire Nation,” Iroh read, pacing through his chamber, “I am honored today to accept the mantle of leadership. It is a heavy burden, but… but...”

“One you have prepared for your entire life?”

Iroh looked up from his messy scrawlings, and smiled at his wife. “You don’t think that sounds vain?”

Akemi circled behind him, arms around his waist, reading over his shoulder. “You don’t have a lot written yet, do you?”

Iroh sighed. “No. In the United Forces, I just gave orders. I didn’t have to worry about how they sounded for the press, or posterity.”

“You don’t have to give a grand speech,” Akemi said. “You just have to reassure people. The country is still unsettled, they want to know a steady hand is in charge. In the end, how you govern will matter way more than what you say on your first day.”

“You think so?” Iroh asked, turning to look at her.

“Of course. Unless you make a total fool of yourself, at least.”

Iroh snorted, then accepted her apologetic kiss. “Maybe we should make you the Fire Lord? You seem more prepared than I am.”

Akemi chuckled. “I haven’t the blood, I’m afraid.”

“Blood,” Iroh muttered. “Yours is as good as mine.”

“How enlightened of you. But mine doesn’t come out of history books, either. You’ll just have to settle.”

He nodded sadly. “You’re sure the kids are going to be fine with this?”

“They’ve known this was coming, someday. They will do as well as you and Hotaru, at least.”

“And will they be fine with the idea of me giving up the power one of them would one day hold?”

“I think so. We’ve always taught them to be fair-mind--”

A knock came at the door. Iroh and his wife blinked at each other. “Come in,” Iroh said, stepping away from her but putting an arm around her waist.

A palace messenger stepped in. “Pardon me, my Lord.” He held out a paper. “New security schedule.”

Iroh accepted the schedule, giving the guard a nod. “Thank you.”

“I was also supposed to inform you of a meeting in the East conference room at three, about arrangements for the coronation.”

“That would involve both of us, then,” Akemi said.

Iroh chuckled. “I hope so. You know I have no eye for that sort of thing.”

“I’ll have your back,” Akemi reassured him.

 

-

 

Sozin sat, cross-legged on the bed, meditating. Centering his energies, feeling them flow through his body. He needed to be ready, yes--but he also needed to keep himself distracted. Years of training and pain, focus and isolation, and all at once, all too suddenly, the moment was upon him.

He swallowed, keeping his emotions down. Mom needed him for today. Him, Sozin--nobody else in the Fire Nation could do what had to be done.

“It will not be much longer, now,” Mom said, from the window. It had taken some doing to get it open, and the breeze gave the room extra chill. “The sun will be behind us, in half an hour or so. That should blind anyone looking this way.”

Sozin kept breathing. Mom didn’t want him to reply. She wasn’t even talking to him, not really. Certainly she wasn’t saying anything they hadn’t talked about already.

“I know you are ready for this,” she continued. “You won’t fail me, not after eleven years. I’ve dedicated my whole life to this, Sozin. Ever since your father died.”

He examined his chakras--not just the Light chakra on his forehead. That path was clear. But there were other points--Mom had never let him study them, but he’d felt them out himself as he’d channeled his own energies. From the base of his spine to the crown of his head… combustion bending was obviously a powerful reason to focus on his light chakra on his forehead. But his throat… his heart…

“It’s all been going wrong for so long. We can set it right. It’s your destiny, Sozin. I know you’ll finally do me proud.”

What would that be like? “I won’t let you down, mom.”

“I know you won’t,” she said, reassuring herself. “Even so, are you certain you can complete your task without me here?”

This was his chance. His chance to make her look on him with pride, to be the son she wanted. He wouldn’t be a burden anymore. He’d show her how much he truly deserved!

Sozin nodded. “As soon as I see the signal. I won’t let up.”

“Come here, to the window.”

He opened his eyes, rose, and went to her, careful not to meet her eyes.

“Point to where the signal shall come from?

He pointed to a guard tower on the outskirts of the palace.

“And point to where you’re going to aim?”

He shifted his finger. Fourth through sixth windows, second floor.

“Good,” Mom said, squeezing his shoulder. “Good. Sozin, I have to go set off our diversions. We’re on a tight timetable, after all.”

“I understand.”

His mother smiled down at him, and his heart swelled. “I will see you tonight. Good luck.”

“Good luck,” he replied, his throat hard.

It wasn’t until after she’d shut the door that he managed to say, “Love you.” He still couldn’t be sure if she would respond.

Sozin stood in the window, watching the shadows stretch closer and closer toward the palace. A rumble came from the distance, smoke rising from a marketplace near the edge of the crater. Mom was out, doing her part.

He just had to wait, and stare. The Fire Nation needed him to do this. Mom…

A light flashed from the tower. Sunlight, reflected at his window. It was time.

It was _time_.

Sozin took a deep breath, stared at the target room of the Royal Palace, and bent.

The Palace exploded.

Sozin did not stop.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This will update sporadically. I don't have any chapters pre-written for it, though I know the very general thrust of what'll happen. Subscribe and stay tuned!


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